


When in Rom(ania), Do As The Ghosties Do

by Blizzard_Fire



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cute Vision (Marvel), Gen, Halloween, Haunted Houses, Humor, POV Steve Rogers, Parent Tony Stark, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, Team Bonding, tony stark is a little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:21:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27150356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blizzard_Fire/pseuds/Blizzard_Fire
Summary: 'By the way,' says Tony, 'I may have bought a castle. In Romania.' Steve recognises that look: it means he’s planning something, which is never a good sign. ‘I got it cheap because it’s one of the most haunted castles on the continent.’Vision’s eyes light up. Literally. It’s a little creepy. ‘Haunted?’Tony passes him the StarkPad. ‘Here’s your chance, buddy. You up for a trip?’Steve and Vision spend the night in a "haunted" Romanian castle. What could go wrong?
Relationships: Steve Rogers & Vision
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22
Collections: Marvel Spooky Scramble 2020





	When in Rom(ania), Do As The Ghosties Do

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Marvel Spooky Scramble 2020! My prompt was Steve and Vision, "Character A has to spend Halloween night in a haunted Romanian castle on a dare from an old schoolmate".

‘By the way,’ says Tony from the kitchen, ‘I may have bought a castle.’

Steve looks up from his oatmeal. ‘What do you mean, “may have”?’

‘Okay, I _bought_ a castle.’ Tony wanders into the communal living room, poking at a StarkPad. ‘It’s been in the works for a while, but the deal just went through.’

The rest of the Avengers are sat around on couches, exhausted after a day of battling giant spiders with ray guns (don’t ask). ‘What do you need a castle for?’ Clint asks, not looking up from his phone. ‘Stark Tower not big enough for you?’

Tony sits down between Bruce and Vision. ‘I just happen to have some appreciation for 14th-century architecture.’

Bruce has been half-dozing for the last hour, but now he raises his head off his hand and peers over Tony’s shoulder. ‘Wow. Where is that?’

‘Romania.’ Tony looks quietly pleased with himself. Steve recognises that look: it means he’s planning something, which is never a good sign. ‘I got it cheap because it’s one of the most haunted castles on the continent.’

Vision’s eyes light up. Literally. It’s a little creepy. ‘Haunted?’

‘Yup. I did some reading around. Apparently it didn’t become haunted until twenty years ago. Some rich guy used it for fancy parties and one of the guests ate some bad shrimp. Now she roams around the place, making gurgling noises. They call her the green lady.’

‘Fascinating,’ says Thor. ‘I didn’t realise Midgard had spirits as well.’

Bruce laughs. ‘Oh, come on. The seller clearly wanted to cash in on all the ghost hype. There’s already plenty of “haunted” castles in Romania, and they all claim to have inspired _Dracula._ It’s the same thing. _’_

Steve frowns. ‘Who’s Dracula?’

Tony groans. ‘Oh my god…’

Helpfully, Vision pipes up, ‘Count Dracula is a character from the 1897 gothic horror novel by Bram Stoker of the same name. The novel is said to be one of the most famous – ‘

‘It’s okay Vision, I’m joking,’ he says hastily. He’s made playing dumb into an art form, but Vision probably wouldn’t see the funny side. Last week he asked Clint where Tatooine was, insisting that the _Star Wars_ movies were based on a true story. Clint had ranted for a record of nearly fifteen minutes before Bruce spoiled his fun.

‘Vision, did you just quote that off Wikipedia?’ Natasha asks, amused.

‘Well, yes. I can connect to the internet without need of a screen. Ghosts fascinate me. I would love to see one.’

Tony passes him the StarkPad. ‘Here’s your chance, buddy. You up for a trip?’

It’s odd to see Vision so openly excited. ‘We would need to bring salt, chalk, an EMF meter…’

‘Vision,’ Bruce says gently, ‘You do know there’s no such thing as ghosts?’

‘Bruce.’ Tony nudges him. ‘Yesterday we thought there was no such thing as giant spiders with ray guns. And you turn into the _Hulk_. You break the laws of physics nearly every week! Don’t you want our son to grow up with a sense of wonder?’

Bruce just rolls his eyes and doesn’t deign to answer.

‘I… would like to visit,’ Vision says tentatively.

Tony shrugs. ‘Well, Halloween’s coming up. Why don’t we make it a vacation?’

‘Halloween in a haunted castle? Sure,’ says Natasha.

‘I’m bringing horror movies,’ says Clint.

‘And snacks,’ adds Thor.

Everyone looks to Steve. He is their leader, after all. ‘That sounds great. It’d do us some good to get away from New York.’ Already, he’s thinking about sketching some landscapes. No doubt the scenery will be beautiful.

‘Bruce?’ Tony nudges him.

‘Oh no. No.’ Bruce laughs dryly. ‘I would love to go "ghost hunting" in Romania, but unfortunately I have, you know, _actual_ work to do here.’

Natasha throws him a look. ‘You said you were trying to cultivate blue moss.’

‘No, I didn’t.’

‘Yes you did, Vision told us you were.’

‘Okay, yes, but there are practical applications for-’

‘Brucie, you’re letting me down here,’ says Tony. ‘Steve is agreeing with me and you’re not. Come on, it’ll be fun. Seven Avengers plus one nauseous ghost. What’s the worst that could happen?’

‘A lot, actually.’ He sighs. ‘Alright, fine. But if you try and scare me again like last year…’

‘I was trying to scare Clint!’ Tony pouts. ‘Fine, I won’t scare you. Much.’

The team disperse, heading back to their rooms for a well-earned rest. Vision doesn’t bother with the elevator and just ascends through the ceiling like a ghost.

‘I wish he’d stop doing that,’ Clint laments. ‘He keeps taking shortcuts through the bathroom.’

As Steve is leaving, Thor pulls him aside and says quietly, ‘We should be on our guard, Captain. The dead are not to be taken lightly.’

Steve pats him on the shoulder. ‘I’m sure we can handle one ghost. Don’t worry.’ Ahead, Natasha and Clint are already debating which horror movies to watch and Tony and Bruce are arguing about moss. This is going to be an interesting trip.

The following weekend, the jet is ready to go... but the Avengers are not.

Steve walks into the living room, suitcase in hand, to find Tony slumped on the couch and looking like death. ‘It’s the ghost of Christmas past. Hangover?’

Tony glares at him. ‘No. I _told_ you those kebabs tasted weird.’

They’d had takeout last night. Steve remembered the others remarking on the strange aftertaste. ‘Are you going to survive an eight-hour trip in the jet?’

‘Yeah, sure. I don’t know. Maybe.’ He swallows hard. ‘Clint and Nat are the same.’

‘And the others?’

‘Bruce had the vegetarian ones. And I’ve seen Thor eat cardboard pizza boxes because he thought they were edible. But listen.’ He beckons Steve closer. ‘You should still go. You and Vision.’

‘That’s not much of a team outing,’ says Steve carefully. Privately, he’s wondering how a guy from the forties could make conversation with the walking internet. On an eight-hour flight.

‘Look, Vision doesn’t exactly have a lot of good memories, and I think this would mean a lot to him.’ He looks at him pleadingly. ‘Come on, Cap. Heed a dying man’s wish.’

Steve sighs. ‘Okay. What about Thor and Bruce?’

‘They’re both clucking around being mother hens. Once I’m done puking I’ll call us in another jet. We’ll only be a couple hours behind.’

And that’s how Steve finds himself on a private jet to Bolivia on Halloween morning. Thankfully the journey isn’t too awkward, since Vision spends most of it staring out of the window, fascinated by the view. Steve supposes everything feels new to him. That’s something he can empathise with.

At some point he dozes off, and wakes up as they touch down. Rain patters on the roof of the jet, and through the mist he sees the castle, outlined against the afternoon sky.

Steve texts Tony to let him know they’ve arrived, but there’s no signal out here. ‘Guess we’d better head inside.’

Vision smiles. ‘Race you.’ Then he floats out through the wall and disappears into the rain like a ghost.

Steve thanks the pilot, grabs his suitcase and follows him.

Tony wasn’t joking: it’s an actual castle, all turrets and spires like something out of a fantasy book. The walls are cream-coloured stone, spiderwebbed with ivy.

He hurries in through the double doors, rainwater dripping off his nose. ‘Not a bad place to stay.’ The elegant wood panelling on the walls is chipped and dusty, but there’s an air of sombre grandeur about the place despite the smell of damp.

‘This is rather charming, isn’t it?’ Vision brushes the cobwebs off an ornate vase. ‘I’m afraid there is no signal here. I can’t get in touch with the others.’

‘Yeah, I know.’ No wi-fi. Bliss. ‘Hey, we don’t need it,’ he assures him, noticing his worried expression. ‘It’ll be fun. Let’s pick rooms before Tony swoops in.’

The first issue is actually finding the bedrooms. There are four floors, and no clear stairway to reach them all. He half-wonders if Tony is here, hiding behind something and ready to jump out at them, but the place really does seem deserted. Many hallways end abruptly, and even Steve with his serum-enhanced spatial awareness is a little dizzy by the time he finds them on the third floor.

The smell of damp is stronger here. Some of the doors are locked but he finds several bedrooms, all of them dusty and drab but perfectly usable. He throws his things onto a bed, which breathes a puff of dust. At least it’s dry. Vision wanders the landing outside, drawing chalk circles and examining the walls for traces of ghost activity.

One night in a “haunted” castle. How hard could it be?

The afternoon passes swiftly. Whilst Vision explores, ghost-proofing all the rooms, Steve sits beside the huge library window and sketches the rain-dappled Romanian countryside. No distractions, no disasters, and unsurprisingly no shrimp-eating ghost.

Several hours pass and the other Avengers still haven’t arrived. He finds Vision in the dining room, which is the size of a house. Steve clears a section of dust and they sit at the mahogany table. ‘Found any ghosts yet?’ he asks, working his way through some of the protein bars he brought with him.

‘No, but I have high hopes.’ Apparently Vision doesn’t need to eat. Instead, he just stares intently at the ceiling. It starts to creep Steve out a little. ‘It is certainly a house of secrets,’ Vision says cryptically. He finally lowers his head and stares at him with piercing blue eyes. ‘We aren’t alone here, you know.’

Steve blinks back at him. ‘Wh – ‘

‘Bats. In the attic. I can see them.’ And he resumes staring up at the ceiling. Right. X-ray vision. That’s… uncomfortable.

Steve shares Bruce's scepticism of ghosts, but he sees no reason to spoil Vision’s fun. ‘I thought the others would be here by now,’ he says instead.

‘Perhaps they were held up. I sense there is a storm coming.’ The rain hasn’t stopped since they arrived, and it shows no signs of slowing down.

They wait a few hours more but it’s clear that no one else is coming. Steve heads up to bed, stepping over the line of candles outside his room. It’s not the worst Halloween he’s ever had, but it’s not the most exciting, either. He attempts to sketch the view outside and gives up when it gets too dark. Once he’s finished choking on the dust coughed out of the old pillows, he falls soundly asleep.

When he wakes up, it’s pitch black and there’s a roll of thunder so loud it sounds like it’s directly overhead. He sits up, automatically reaching for his shield – which of course isn’t here. He grabs the torch from his bag instead.

It’s pitch black outside the window since there are no streetlights out in the wilderness. Occasionally a flash of lightning illuminates the trees. He watches for a while, wondering if it might herald Thor’s arrival, but there’s no sign of a jet.

The whole house seems to have come alive. Water is dripping somewhere in the room, and something else is rattling upstairs. Something about the unreality of waking up in the dark, disorientated and in an unfamiliar place, puts him on alert. But what should he have to fear in an old place like this?

Steve turns away from the window and a face blinks back at him from the wall, eyes reflecting in the light of his torch. He yells throws a punch.

The face vanishes. Then distantly, on the other side of the wall, he hears an ‘Ouch.’

‘Shit.’ Steve opens the door and hurries into Vision’s room. ‘I am so sorry–’

‘It’s quite alright,’ Vision assures him, clutching his jaw. ‘I didn’t mean to scare you.’

‘You didn’t scare me, I was just… startled,’ he says lamely.

‘Next time, I will use the door.’ His eyes glow softly in the darkness. ‘I wanted to check on you. Three o’clock in the morning is when ghosts are most active.’

‘Ghosts aren’t – ‘ He sighs. ‘I’m fine. Thanks for asking. I’m going back to bed.’ He heads back to his room, the storm muffling his footsteps. And then he stops.

Because the torch has picked out his canvas, still lying by the window. The rain has seeped in and smudged the charcoal. And on the canvas itself, two words have been scribbled across his drawing.

GET OUT

He stares in disbelief, something cold crawling down his spine. He snatches it up and goes back to Vision’s room. ‘Really funny. You got me.’

But Vision isn’t there. No doubt he’s gone to check on the rest of his ghost traps. It doesn’t seem like the sort of thing Vision would do, but then he loves Halloween stuff so perhaps he got a little too into it. But he must have come in whilst Steve was asleep, and everyone knows how protective Steve is of his drawings…

Something is rattling upstairs. It’s a rhythmic thudding sound, like someone is thumping a fist on the floor. He goes to investigate.

The noise is coming from behind one of the doors which was previously locked, but now it stands ajar. Inside is a children’s playroom, and the floor is thick with dust. The bed is neatly made, and a porcelain doll with a broken face sits on the end of it in an eerily lifelike position. At the back of the room, a rocking horse slowly comes to a stop, its shadow swaying gently in the light of the torch.

Steve laughs. ‘Okay Tony, very funny. Is there a hidden camera here?’ He checks the rocking horse but finds no evidence of a hidden motor or strings. Knowing Tony it’s something more complicated than that. With a sarcastic wave at the doll, he closes the door and continues his search.

It seems that most of the locked doors are now open. There’s a room with no windows and a suspicious red-brown stain on the wall, and another filled with mirrors that seem to show someone standing behind him. He finds a music box in one, which starts chiming eerily when he steps inside. He admires Tony’s dedication, but Steve has seen plenty of horror movies since he came out of the ice. He knows what a cliché is, and Tony has used them liberally.

He passes Vision on the stairs. ‘This castle is extremely haunted,’ Vision says with delight.

‘I know!’ says Steve. ‘I have to see the basement…’

He finds it at the bottom of a long staircase, and he isn’t disappointed. The walls are sweating a mysterious red liquid, and indecipherable scribblings cover every inch of the smooth brickwork. It’s a shame to vandalise such a lovely old castle, but hopefully it’ll be restored to its former glory once Tony’s finished using it as a Halloween prank. He’s willing to bet that Thor provided the storm for ambience. It’s only a shame that they’re not all here together.

He joins Vision as he hurries around the house, pointing out candles that have blown out and chalk circles that are now smudged. He’s like a kid on an Easter egg hunt, rattling off “facts” about apparitions and classifications of spectre. They don’t sleep for the rest of the night but Steve doesn’t really mind. It’s a pleasant change from spiders wielding ray guns and black holes in the sky. He spends an hour sketching the mould pattern on the bathroom wall that looks like a screaming face.

Morning finally arrives, and the jet arrives with it. They leave with some reluctance, but Steve feels he understands Vision a little better than he did. In some ways he’s still very young, still making his mind up about the world he’s found himself in. When your first impression of existence is battling an evil supercomputer, it’s bound to colour your perceptions somewhat.

They talk for most of the way home. They both know what it’s like to wake up in a time you know nothing about, and how difficult some things are that most take for granted. Perhaps the trip wasn’t wasted after all.

Last night inevitably catches up with him though, and by the time they arrive home he’s fallen asleep again.

‘Wow, was it _that_ boring?’

Steve jolts awake to see Tony, standing outside the open door of the jet. He looks better than he did before, though perhaps still a little pale.

‘Well, we didn’t see any ghosts,’ says Steve casually, stepping onto the roof of Stark Tower.

‘No, but there was plenty of evidence that they were there.’ Vision is beaming. ‘Ask Steve to show you his drawings. I’m sure there was more than one ghost.’ And he heads inside, no doubt to tell the others.

‘Sorry you couldn’t make it,’ says Steve. ‘I’m sure you wanted to see the looks on our faces.’

He looks sheepish. ‘Yeah… I owe you an apology actually.’

‘Well, some of the scares were a little obvious, but you get an A for effort. Vision loved it.’

‘That’s… great.’ Tony is looking at him strangely. ‘No, there was a mix-up with the pilot. He took you to the wrong castle. I don’t think anyone’s set foot in that one for years.’

Steve says nothing.

‘It’s a real shame. I had all this stuff planned, the _actual_ castle was rigged with everything. Holograms, motion sensors, you name it. I figured that Vision would like it, since he’s never had a Halloween before. Was going to record the whole thing, maybe make a viral video out of it. I was even going to hack your phone except that yours is so old even JARVIS couldn’t touch it. You’re the only person I know who has a _flip phone._ With _buttons._ Hey, you good?’

Something cold creeps down Steve’s spine. He thinks about the drawings in his suitcase: the scribbled message, the face on the bathroom wall. And the person who stood behind him in all those broken mirrors…

‘Steve?’ Tony frowns.

But Steve is already hurrying after Vision. ‘Next year, let’s just stay here. It’s uh, simpler and closer to home – ‘

‘If you’d rather help Bruce make blue moss, just say so. I won’t be offended. Hey, what’s the rush?’

Vision is clearly the expert on all this, and Steve’s not about to do battle with vengeful spirits. The spiders were bad enough. Why can’t their team-building outings just be _normal?_

‘Got to see a man about a ghost,’ he calls, hurrying down the stairs.

Tony can laugh all he wants. Steve isn’t taking any chances.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if Steve/Vision is a popular ship but it's sitting on some fantastic potential names like RetroTech or something.


End file.
